Monday, May 26, 2003

Well, I'm home. What? You didn't know I was gone? I guess we can chalk that up to my poor communication skills. To tell you where I'm home from necessitates that rarity of all rarities: The Relationship Post.

Christie took my down to New Orleans to meet her folks. Apparently, we'd reached the point where her parents felt the need to check me out, and Christie felt safe letting me see where she came from. It was illuminating to say the least. Her parents are transplanted Yankees, and she actually lived in Michigan until 6th grade. It's taken a while for the Yankee and Southern elements in her personality to reconcile themselves to one another, but they really have come together nicely, mitigated by the Geek elements of her upbringing. By the way, I'm using Geek in the non-pejorative sense here. I was raised by geeks myself, so I actually consider it a compliment. And no one who's met Christie's folks would argue with me when I say they're members of the Geek tribe.

We spent one day in the city and walked Bourbon Street in the day and nighttimes, which just whet my appetite for New Orleans. The history and culture permeate the city, as does a certain odor that may be unique in its peculiar blend of swamp rot, sugar, pork fat, booze and urine. Like I said, it was just a taste, but I get the impression that New Orleans is stuck in the middle of being what it always has been and becoming a parody of itself. But that's a problem we all have, and I wish it well in its journey. That being said, I'm very comfortable putting New Orleans in the "nice place to visit, but..." pile.

As far as Christie, and the weekend, and her parents, I'm not sure how much detail I want to go into, since several of the relevant parties are at least occasional readers. Her folks are a joy, and things are going well with Christie (I'm finally learning to give myself permission to be happy, finally starting to trust my heart again), so it's not that I have horrible things to say but don't want to hurt anybody's feelings. It's more that if I'm going to write about Christie and I, I want to be able to do so without worrying about what effect my words might have on the people I care about. So I'll do what my kind have always done: I'll write about them in my journal, turn it into fiction, and then let everybody try and puzzle out what parts are about who.

Until that time, just know that things are good, and I'm remembering how to love again.

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